#MNR: CORPORATE BAILOUTS
“The Chinaman built the railroad. The Indian saved the pilgrim, and in return the pilgrim killed him. They call it Thanksgiving; I call your holiday Hell Day. ‘Cause I’m from poverty, neglected by the wealthy.” Nasir Jones “You no kin to me so how the fuck you inherit my style?” Kurupt My nigga @BigRich1128, you know he’s down with us. @Damn_she_tall_2 and @DirttMcGirt, down with us. The good brother @alexjuli6n is down with us. @Devinpsu and @carribeanflavaz, you know they’re down with us. The one and only @iamdjgreen, he’s down with us. @GrBest1yet and @_RMCMB are down with us. My nephew @FourCornerConvo is down with us. @TakeALSmoove and @BrightBlueSlang, you know they’re down with us. Fly mama @designer_clothe – down with us. @LeekMJB and @RealMalcB are down with us. My nigga @PayHomage is down with us. My bruva @MELVVLN, you know he’s down with us. It’s UnB, nigga, we’ve got the game in the tuck. We’re number... One. Big ups to all my folk who don’t fuck with the social medias but support this blog. Y’all are most definitely down with us. Big ups to the ladies of the Black Atlas Mafia: JuJu, ShanT and Nella. They don’t fuck with that Twitter shit, but they tune in. You three are loved and appreciated. Just wait until Nella starts her blog up. She’s going to get super busy. I love her sagacity. We’re going to drop the next great YouTube Black politics channel one day. I know y’all finna tune in. When we go global I’m a have to get my teeth fixed. I think I’m going to go with the Cameron Giles model. Pause, if necessary. It just so happens that I got a jump on this week’s blog. I’m up into the wee hours on a Saturday night. My creative juices are flowing, and I’ve got enough reefa to get the 2000 Portland Trailblazers from Oracle Arena in Oaktown to Staples Center in downtown Los Scandalous on a Greyhound bus with the AC on “fuck you” and the “check engine” light on the entire MF ride. I love to write deep into the late night. I take a few pulls of the J, sit back, and let the sick thoughts enter. I always have the deepest affinity for blogs that are birthed simply through sitting at the Mac and letting my fingers go, sort of how Sugar Ray flurried at the end of each round the night Marvelous Marvin Hagler was cheated. The difference between Sugar Ray and your boy Monday is that I’m not stealing points. There’s no chicanery on this side. This shit is authentic, like the Washington Capitals Alexander Ovechkin alternate jersey with the captain patch I procured through scrupulous means. It’s only right that I mention a hockey jersey because I skate all over the keyboard – effortlessly. I make love with each keystroke. This is very serious business. Supreme shouts out to those of y’all who tune in every Monday like we’re broadcast on ESPN. That’s a beautiful thing. And hey...even if it’s Tuesday morning, afternoon, evening, or whenever the fuck you get a few minutes to yourself to tune in...we appreciate you. You heard? We are in the fourth quarter of 2023. We’re looking 2024 dead in the face. I’m talmbout the Olympics and errthang. Look, I’m finna get straight to the point. If you’re wearing a du-rag and it’s not a silky, I’m a need you to make moves to the beauty supply store and rectify the situation. Immechiately. It’s non-cipher, and frankly, I feel that it’s nasty work. I don’t think it’s fair that you have us all in a long-ass Target checkout line staring at your $2.99, two-tone, porous, short-string nylon dooey with the minimum hangtime cape. Shit looks like a restaurant dinner napkin. The whites are looking at you like you’re dirty and you stink. The college kids standing in line with 246 pair of pajama bottoms are pondering if you gave up on social conformity and went smooth into fuck-it mode. I’m looking at you like you have crumbs in at least two of the pockets on your clothing. Flagrant #1 foul. Two shots and the ball. I’m a need you type of Negroes to stay in the crib. Looking like Hustle Man with those damn pigeons on a stick. UPDATE: Speaking of Hustle Man, I saw/met/? Tracey Morgan in my friendly neighborhood ShopRite during my Sunday afternoon grocery store experience. That is all. Big ups to my brother, the CEO. 11.19 was his born day. That man is getting old, which is a blessing. He and I go back quite a few years now. He’s still the same person I met 20 years ago. He’s a benevolent man who would literally give his last for his folk. This is completely random, but when that man was the Assistant Director of an old after school program I was a part of, he knew the first and last names of EVERY student in the program, more than 300 altogether. He also knew where they were located. Always. That’s why I call him CEO; he has key traits found in CEOs. The only thing he lacks is true belief in self. He’s brilliant. I’ve seen it for years. But it’s cool. That’s why I’m around. One thing I know how to do is remind my folk of how great they are. He’s the only creative partner I’ve ever had; he is one half of 2NN. We’re going to have our time. Just keep the faith. More life, my brother. On Thursday, most filthy Americans will sit at a familial dinner table and celebrate a holiday known as Thanksgiving to the United States of America. The white folk taught us in public schools that the Indian and white man one day decided to sit down and commune. The books say the white man gave thanks to the indigenous man for saving his unprepared, ignorant ass from calamity. He arrived in the Americas with no type of strategic plan, suffered like a MF, and needed the first corporate bailout in American history to avoid extinction on this side of the Atlantic. God bless the indigenous man. Now, most civilized folk would have cherished the indigenous man forever and a day. Not the white man. The white man went on to rape, pillage, kill and steal the indigenous man’s land. Yadda, yadda, yadda...we celebrate Thanksgiving. Fuck Thanksgiving. I’m with Nasir. I call your holiday Hell Day. I will never celebrate Thanksgiving. I will eat and watch football, however. I will also watch the virtual battles CAPS is hosting on Angryfan007. I call it a day of thanks. I give thanks daily, so every day is a day of thanksgiving. Eat, drink and be merry. Just don’t forget the perpetual savagery of the white man. The yadda, yadda, yadda line really works if you’ve seen the Seinfeld episode. Jerry and Larry were brilliant. Enjoy your time with loved ones this week. Nothing is for sure, nothing is for certain, nothing lasts forever. But until they close the curtains... tymonday.com: @tymonday on Twitter & IG crewunb.com: @crewunB on Twitter & @theunbearablescrew on IG
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